Show Me How and I'll Stay
by OtakuLibra
Summary: In which Sam is probably the only sane one out of all of them; also, in which he has been defined by other people his whole life, and how he stopped. Winona/George, Sam/Aurelan


**George Samuel Kirk, Jr. **

He's named after his father, but no one calls him George. It's always Sam. He decides he likes the distinction, the understanding his parents have that he is unique. Sam is not his father, and no one treats him like he should be.

Dad loves old twenty-first and twenty-second century music. Dad loves anything old, and Mom is loud. She always sings along with Dad's music, and Sam wonders how she knows all the words to all those songs.

Sam is a quiet kid; he never pretends to be anything like his parents. There aren't any expectations.

Mom and Dad are in Starfleet, and even though Sam's too young to know what that entails he does know that he hates it when they go. Dad carries him through the shipyard until they get to the shuttle, and Mom ruffles his hair. Sam can tell she's excited to go; she loves her job. It's as much a part of her as her bright blonde hair. It's obvious even to him, despite that he doesn't actually know what it is she does.

He always asks the same thing. "When can I come with you?"

It isn't that he actually wants to go. He doesn't much care about space, it's just that he wants to be wherever they are.

"Someday, buddy," Dad says as he lets Sam down. He always says the same thing.

Mom doesn't say anything, just smiles, the loudest smile Sam has ever seen, and Tiberius takes him home.

Tiberius is Dad's dad. He's not tall, but he has broad shoulders and brown eyes like his. He smiles all the time and gives Sam butterscotch when he misses his parents. On Sundays, Tiberius takes him to church. Calphurnia, Sam's grandma, makes them home-made donuts with powdered sugar, after, and Tiberius and Calphurnia read each other Shakespeare on lazy afternoons.

Sam knows his family is different, but he kind of likes it that way. For the first five years of his life, he doesn't know how to be anyone but himself.

**George Samuel Kirk, Sr.**

He wakes to a cool, smooth touch on his forehead and the smell of his grandma's hand lotion.

"Sammy, honey, wake up."

The holovid projector is on. And Sam knows something's wrong because they _never_ watch it before church. Dread settles low in the pit of his stomach.

"Gram'ma?" he asks, voice caked with sleep. Her eyes are red, and her hair is falling out of its bun, and Sam is terrified of all these small inconsistencies because they add up to something awful.

"Come into the living room, sweetheart," she says, fingers carding through his thick brown hair. His eyes ask a question, and either she doesn't recognize it or doesn't know how to answer.

He curls up next to Tiberius on the sofa. Grandma sits next to him, and they both hold him as the news plays.

Dad is dead, and he has a baby brother. There's more: lots of people dead and the hundreds of shocked and broken faces and all the reporters. But it all comes down to his father being dead and his mom carrying his brother tight to her chest.

It doesn't feel real. It's as if these are different people on the screen, as if he doesn't immediately recognize the sound of his father's voice.

And all those promises of space—Sam forgets that he ever didn't want it—vanish like so much dust in the wind, and Sam's little body shakes with sobs. He molds himself as far into the sofa as he can go, and Tiberius's arm tightens around him protectively.

But even still, it doesn't really hit home until the first time a kid brings up George in a playground fight. It's the first time Sam has been defined by someone else. It won't be the last.

**Winona**

For the first year, the only people she lets in the house are Grandma and Tiberius, and even then it's only every once in awhile. Sam misses them. He's six, and his mom is so sad all the time, and she almost never puts Jimmy down.

The house is clean and quiet, and Mom doesn't listen to oldies anymore. All Dad's music has been deleted from the player, replaced by these slow, sad songs that Sam doesn't recognize. Dad's corvette, this beautiful classic convertible, just sits in the garage. Sam runs his hands over the hood, reverent. Mom won't go in the garage. Her motorcycle sits out in the driveway. She doesn't leave the house much.

A strange woman comes over when Jimmy's just turned one. Sam doesn't like her; she's unfamiliar, and Mom _never _lets people inside who aren't family.

And then, Jimmy's three, and Mom and Sam spend all their time chasing after him. Sam thinks he could maybe get used to this. He's eight, and they finally start to feel like a family.

Mom goes away for a weekend, and Sam and Jimmy stay with Grandma and Tiberius. When she comes back, she's got Frank and her eyes are walled off. Sam's never seen his mom so emotionless. He doesn't know how to live with his mother like this, with Dad gone. He doesn't know what to do with a mother he doesn't quite recognize anymore.

He hates Frank, and he hates Mom for thinking marrying him would fix anything. And then she _leaves_, and Sam is eight and he's never been so angry in his life.

Jimmy doesn't cry, even though Sam's pretty sure Mom's never left him alone in his life. He just gets quiet, and that's probably worse. Mom was always the loud one, but she's gone, and they can't both be quiet, Jim and Sam. So Sam changes, because Jim doesn't know how to be who he is, not yet.

Sam gets into fights with the boys at school, and he forgets that this isn't who he is. His teachers, when they talk about him, say how like his mother he's become. That's fine by him.

Mom left; someone's got to be there.

**Albert Einstein**

Sam is smart. For awhile, it's kind of a secret, but, like Mom, he's smart. It just isn't the first thing people notice.

Someday, Sam thinks, it will be. Someday Jimmy won't need him so much and it won't be up to him whether the stupid kid goes into space, even though it's all the twerp's ever wanted and it terrifies him. Someday he won't have to deal with how screwed up his family is, and he probably shouldn't be wishing as hard for that day as he does. He feels guilty, but he's just a kid. He's not even fifteen yet.

But Frank doesn't know how to be a dad. At least, not to Jim. Mom's the only one who gets him, but she's—Sam doesn't actually know where she is. Probably inciting war with the Romulans or something.

Anyway, Sam's got his dead father, who's a hero, and his living mother, who's a fucking _super_hero or something (and it's probably not a good thing he used to tell Jimmy all those stories about her, because it might be partially his fault the kid wants space so bad). And he's got Jimmy. He doesn't really want to think about all the implications of _that_.

And Sam's smart, but Jim's a frigging _genius_. Nobody knows this yet, because Jim's _quiet_. It's so weird; it goes against everything Sam knows about him, but it's true. Frank's a jackass, and Jimmy's quiet, and Sam _knows_ Jim is like Mom. He knows Jim is like Mom, and he's glad, because he doesn't want to be. But Jim doesn't understand that yet. He's hiding.

He never knew Dad. He doesn't get that he's the one who's like them, not Sam.

Except, it might possibly be Sam's fault Jim takes the car. He thinks, as he waits in the police station later for them to let Jimmy go, that he can't be _too_ upset about it. There's a kind of smugness at getting Jim to finally _do_ something, and yes, he was worried that the kid was dead. Yes, he stole Mom's motorcycle to drive it down here even though he doesn't really know how to drive yet, because Frank couldn't be bothered. Yes, he's here, getting the cops to let him go. And yes, he's still terrified to death and his hands are shaking.

But then they get outside, and it's like Jim's been holding this inside his entire life (which, maybe he has been), because he _explodes_, throwing his arms in the air and giving a shout of victory. It's amazing, and Sam doesn't get Jim at all.

But it doesn't really matter, because he stops being quiet. Everything Sam's ever seen flickers of breaks through that stupid shell Jim's always had around himself, and he finally seems _alive_. And Sam is almost happy that he said what he did.

And he feels safe enough to be the quiet one again, to slip into the background and _be_, just in case anyone needs him. Jim's okay; he can be the loud one now.

They call him Albert Einstein at school, even though, duh, he was a physicist, not a biologist. But whatever. Sam's just glad they're finally seeing _him_.

**Janet Morgan**

"She is _such _a fucking _bitch._" He just stares at the holo for a minute, hands clenching into fists.

It's March, and back in Riverside there's snow still on the ground. But Sam's been in San Francisco for three weeks, and all he's seen is rain. It's cold, for California. He expected sunshine and beaches, and, while it's warmer than Iowa, it's still cool, and it's been raining for days.

He's sitting in Christopher Pike's living room while his wife (girlfriend? Something? Sam doesn't know) makes tea. Pike, meanwhile, is sitting in the black leather armchair next to Sam, staring intently at a datapad. The news is on, and Sam wants to smash the holo projector to get that fucking _whore_ reporting it to shut up.

It isn't that he's not used to people talking about his family. He is; he's dealt with it for eighteen years.

But that's his parents. Dad's dead, and Mom's… Mom's fucking _beyond _any of this getting to her anymore. So when people talk about them, Sam's okay. But then… Then there's his little brother. And that? Is fucking _wrong_.

"He's just a kid!" Sam rants at the holo, pacing around the coffee table. Pike gives him a look, but Sam can't stop. "He's just a kid, and he doesn't deserve this, and it isn't even _about_ him. Look at them, man! There's… there's too fucking many, and all this bitch cares about is _Jim_. Because of _Dad_. It pisses me off."

Number One hands him a cup of tea. She doesn't look precisely sympathetic, just… Calm. Ready to be there, to deal with the fallout from whatever happens next. Like nothing is capable of surprising her.

She's a hell of a lot stronger than he is, maybe even more than Pike is. It's _scary_.

"Samuel." Her voice isn't raised, isn't angry. But it's harsh, to the point, and Sam finds himself sitting down, sipping his tea even though he's more of a coffee guy.

The video plays practically on a loop all day. They call in experts and whatever, and they just sit around and talk about eugenics and Tarsus and two thousand people dying like it's some sort of science experiment. It makes Sam sick. But he watches it, because eventually they'll show Jim again, and Sam sometimes forgets in the intervals and needs to be reminded that Jim's alive. That Jim's alive and Mom is with him and he's going to be okay.

He falls asleep there, on the couch, with the holo still running. When he wakes up, it's three in the morning and there's a light on in the kitchen.

Number One is sitting at the table, wearing a robe and doing a math puzzle on her datapad. She notices him immediately.

"You should be asleep."

Sam doesn't know what to say. He still doesn't know what to make of her. So he sits next to her at the table and watches her work through the puzzle. She's quick, methodical, never making a mistake. Finally, she puts down the datapad and looks at him.

"You are still worried." She doesn't ask. Sam is a little terrified of her.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am." He runs a hand through his hair. He needs to shower. He doesn't remember the last time he slept through the night. He's fucking _exhausted_.

"He seems to be a resourceful child, your brother," Number One observes, absently twirling her datapad's stylus in her fingers. "Do you not believe he will recover?"

"Honestly? I don't know."

None of this seems to faze her at all. She just takes it all in stride, moves on, works from the available data. Sam wishes he could do that.

"Your remaining here is no longer necessary."

"That your way of kicking me out?"

She frowns slightly. "It is not. You do not intend to return to Riverside, then?"

Sam shifts uncomfortably. Number One seems a little like Mom, only less psychotic, more calm. He can't decide which one is scarier, but he definitely likes Number One better. He's biased.

Sam sighs. "I don't think so. Do you think that's awful?"

"It is not up to you to save him."

It isn't a direct answer. Maybe isn't what Pike would have told him, if he'd asked. But Sam appreciates it.

He appreciates that she seems to understand how much he needs to get away from Riverside. How much he needs to be himself. How much he's sick of letting some news anchor bitch like Janet Morgan define him.

Still, it's kind of twisted that Sam ends up in school on Deneva. Fucking space, he thinks. Can't let even one Kirk slip out of its fingers.

**Aurelan**

He's a biologist, and she's obsessed with theoretical physics.

It's a match made in heaven, really.

She's got this, like, Bettie Page haircut, and she has five pairs of earrings, all in the shape of a different model of the atom. She's gorgeous, in a geeky kind of way. Which is the best kind of way, Sam thinks.

She's smart, and she's pretty, and she's _stable_. Which, for Sam, translates to out of his league.

So when he finally works up the courage to ask her out at this New Years party sophomore year, he can't contain his shock when she says yes.

"Seriously?"

She smiles. "Think about it, Sam. There are a billion parallel universes where I said no."

And that's just about when he falls in love with her.

They go out, and the graduate, and he and Aurelan move in together. And Sam doesn't know what a normal interpersonal relationship is supposed to be like, but Aurelan isn't all that socially adept either. So they just go for the closest approximation of normal they can get and stick with it. It seems to work pretty well.

Aurelan lets him be himself, doesn't give a shit about how weird his family is.

It's Aurelan who proposes, sort of. It's more like she gets the rings, and they sit down and talk about it. Because they're scientists. And Aurelan is best with numbers, and Sam is best in a lab coat, but words come way easier than grand gestures and subtlety. They utterly _fail_ at subtlety.

So they sit down, and they talk, and by the time they get up to make dinner Aurelan is wearing an engagement ring.

They get married in September, because it's the nicest month on Deneva. It's outside, and Sam's wearing the only suit he owns and Aurelan is wearing dress slacks and a tie. It's not traditional, but Sam's never been much into that. Besides, he finds it really fucking hilarious that Aurelan's being all subversive at their _wedding_.

They know next to nothing about normal, but they work.

**Peter **

When Peter is born, it's the first time Sam doesn't really care about being defined by someone else. He's a dad, and that changes things. He's got a kid now, this beautiful, amazing kid. And that terrifies him, but he's ready. He doesn't know how he knows, but it's true.

Sam calls Jim, because they haven't talked in awhile and Sam feels a little guilty about that.

"Jim." He can feel himself getting choked up, and he tries to swallow it down before Jim says something. "Jim, I have a kid."

It doesn't convey one _tenth_ of what he's feeling, but Jim seems to get it, somehow. He grins, tells Sam he'll let Mom know.

He's a good kid, Jimmy, even if he is a bit fucked up, still.

They buy a bigger house, and it's everything Sam ever wanted in a normal life. It's a bit gratifying to know that, okay, space may have a claim on pretty much all Kirks, but Sam doesn't need to be big the way Jim and Mom do. It's nice.

**James Tiberius Kirk**

Sam likes Jim, he's figured out, because Jim lets him be smaller than he is. Jim lets him be normal, gets the attention off of him. And it isn't like Sam doesn't resent it sometimes. He does. And it's not like things have ever been great between them since Jim decided to drive Dad's car off the quarry. But it's okay.

Jim does the drinking and the fighting, and he's heard Jim broke Frank's nose once, a long time ago. Sam likes Jim because he doesn't have to pretend he could have done that. No one holds it against him when Jim's around. He's utterly unapologetic, and Sam doesn't know how to be that. He cares too much—so does Jim, to be fair, but about other things.

So Sam invites Jim to stay with them while he's on shore leave. They're in San Francisco, him, Aurelan, Peter, Alex, and Andrew, visiting Pike, who looks so different from when Sam crashed on his sofa all those years ago.

"Maybe next time," Jim says when Sam comms. "I'm gonna stay with Mom this time around… You should talk to her, Sam."

Sam shrugs. "I know. One of these days."

He hates that Jim doesn't get it. That Jim thinks Sam should just forgive her, just let her be insane and deal with it like there's nothing wrong. He isn't _like_ them.

One day, though. One day he'll get over it, and he'll go home, and maybe he'll even see Jim in person. One day he'll feel okay being around them again, without being afraid he'll break apart.

Sam's spent way too much time hearing about his family. One of these days, he'll be ready to just be a part of it, entirely himself.


End file.
